


Whole year

by MarieLamb_B



Series: Ink Shape [3]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Birthday, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mysterious Past, Secrets, The ink demonth, Trauma, chocolate cake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25659460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarieLamb_B/pseuds/MarieLamb_B
Summary: In all the time Wally has been there, he's the one who's been in charge to celebrateeveryone'sbirthdays. But has he ever celebrated his own?
Relationships: Wally Franks/Sammy Lawrence
Series: Ink Shape [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1414582
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Whole year

**Author's Note:**

> Who would have thought that I could ever be _**Back, Baby!!**_
> 
> Yes, I'm using the Ink Demonth as an excuse but honestly this one has been half-fleshed in my drafts since a while, and now I have time, and is still fitting for the first day!
> 
> So yay me!! I could write something after so long!!!
> 
> Hope you really enjoy this~!!

_“Happy birthday to you~!”_ Chanted almost everyone gathered in the break room, cheering the Irish man in his special day as he blew the candles that topped the cake the janitor so heartfully got made in honor to the celebration.

Of course, this seemed special, but not _really_ special. Sammy knew well. After all, Wally always made this for everyone in the studio with no exception. And as such, the only really special thing here was the janitor himself, and Sammy liked to watch him roaming around, putting smiles on every face he met, even on himself; he was really good about it.

“You enjoying the party, Lawrence?” Susie came to his reclused corner, earning a disgruntled groan that erased the soft smirk that was peeking from the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah, sure, as if this could even be called a party at all in the petty hour we have for lunch.” He retorted, dripping sarcasm from every pore as he made his way out of the corner, away from the voice actress, and towards the coffee machine by the other side of the room.

“Oh, and I’m sure you’ve gone to plenty of parties to actually know how’s one, don’t cha?” She followed; a glint of mischievousness adorning her eyes.

“The only excuse of a party I’ve been are these ones you and your little group drag me on, interrupting _my_ job.” He said as he started the machine to boil the water, keeping contained the thought of Wally being into that so called “little group” and that he was the only reason he left them drag him on; Susie didn’t need to know that. “And seeing how they are, is easy to tell this couldn’t be called a party in any sense.” Was his final muttered statement.

“Oh, c’mon, mister grumps! Can’t you even _pretend_ you can have fun once in your life? I even heard Wally got a really special kind of cake!”

“What could be so special about--” He turned around to face the short woman but his answer to his unfinished question came from the joyous shout of the man of the hour.

_“Liqueur chocolate cake?! How did ya know it?!”_

_“Heh, I got mah ways.”_

_“And Joey agreed with this? It’s still working hours...”_

_“Well, he’s not ‘ere to know it, so I guess we still can enjoy it.”_

A bunch of chuckles burst with the projectionist’s remark that gave way to a lightheartedly chat among the crew. All the scene witnessed by Sammy and Susie alike, the latter nudging the former on the ribs.

“See? There can be fun! And you gotta admit it: Wally’s pretty great at giving people what they want. Even for Your birthday.”

“Yeah, yeah...” He turned around to keep with his coffee task and face his back on the actress ~~so she wouldn’t see his forming tender smile~~ “I guess he _does_ can use that brain of his more than for just horsing around.”

“...would it hurt you being nice at least once?” She snarked with a deadpanned glare that fell on the unbothered musician’s back, who only answered with completely ignoring her as he kept preparing his coffee and thrived on things that escaped the woman’s unaware grasp. But with a defeated sigh, she moved around, standing now next to him and leaning on the counter as she kept watching the celebration a couple of tables ahead. “He’s too nice for you to get it, Lawrence.” _The understatement of the week,_ Sammy thought. “But even with all that, can’t help but feel it’s kinda weird...”

She didn’t continue, to what Sammy had no much more choice than to recognize it as his cue to question what she meant.

“What could be so weird that you need to point it out?” He asked, monotonously and not even gracing her with a glance, to what she promptly ignored.

“Well, do you even have an idea of when is _his_ birthday?” That question honestly halted any action he was on.

Every inch of his mind screamed to demand what that even meant, but he couldn’t give away such kind of signs, lest he blew up their arrangement.

“...uh?” Was his so eloquent answer in hopes to show at most mild interest.

“Sammy, I mean it. He knows the birthday of everyone in here, and I mean _everyone._ There once was this intern that just came in, and barely two weeks after, Wally was already calling every member to the conference room where this intern was to sing and celebrate his birthday! With cake and all the deal! Yet how many years have been since he works here?” She asked, to what he deigned a blank stare direct to her. “He’s been here since before me, but still never heard of anybody who said “happy birthday, Wally” a single time! I wonder wh _en it could...”_ But her voice got lost in the sea of thoughts that invaded Sammy’s mind.

He kept his blanc façade as he slowly turned to stare the man in question, bewilderment swarming behind those seemingly inexpressive eyes so focused on keep the role of uninterested and plain annoyed. He hated to admit it, but Susie had a point. Wally was actually really secretive, not even sharing his own birthday. Heck, weren’t for that accident, they wouldn’t even have known he was completely homeless! And now that they were dating, he wondered if there would really be things that maybe they’d never share. He could understand it, he had his own quota of private stuff. But if there were so simple things he didn’t know, how sure was he about what he knew of the janitor? Apparently not much beyond a name...

_“Sammy... Sammy, are_ you listening?” The actress snapped him off his thoughts, though he was lucky of not even have reacted with a flinch, conserving his oh, so apathetic semblance. So, he just side-glanced at her as minimal response. “I was asking if you can recall a time where he announced his own birthday.”

“Heh, hardly think he would buy his own cake.” He snorted, half-voicing and idea on the built. And Susie gave him a quizzical look over such strange statement. “I don’t know, Campbell. Why don’t you go and pester _him_ with those questions?” He questioned her with no room left for her to retort, as he grabbed his cup of coffee and proceeded to leave the room and return to his work office.

If he stayed there any longer, he would have started to feel frustrated over answers he wouldn’t be able to get right then. So, he needed to think, plot something to find when was his boyfriend’s birthday. Maybe some sort of surprise out of context so he would give answers in the middle of his confusion, could it work?

*-*-*-*-*

It was pretty late into the night, past 10:30, but for Wally was a usual time to arrive home since he has to keep all in check in the studio before leaving. Normally by this time he would go directly to Sammy, who’d be waiting for him, and have some “quality time” together, although rather brief, as Wally had to get soon to bed due to his day starting way earlier than Sammy’s. Maybe a little snack before bed. Not much really, it was just routine.

But what wasn’t in any sense routine was to find all in the apartment turned off, with only a faint glow that led him see a whole chocolate cake atop the kitchen counter and some burning candles on it.

“Uh, Sammy?” He called around, not having seen the man in question, only to be startled by his voice coming from around out the kitchen.

“Do you like it? I took a wild guess and thought you might like chocolate cake.” Sammy said, voice low and soft in a purr, almost inviting. Why was he doing it? _Was some kind of proposal?_

“Ah, well, most folks like chocolate cake, ain’t it?” Wally sputtered back, hesitantly. But Sammy paced towards him.

He looked scarily alluring, a rather strange yet enrapturing glint in his eyes, and Wally was unable to understand why all of this came to. Sammy got right in front of him, and not missing a beat, he encircled him and an hand was gently laid on Wally’s shoulder from the back, softly pushing him forward and towards the kitchen counter’s seat with the cake right in front of him; Sammy parting to the other side, retrieving a knife and some plates and getting ready for the unprompted event.

“Shall we begin?”

“Uh, Sammy...” Wally said but paused, refraining some words from just burst out and opting for continuing with caution. “...What’s... what’s all of this ‘bout?”

“Well, it’s to celebrate, of course!” He just stated as a matter of fact that Wally was unable to catch.

“Ce-celebrate? Celebrate what?”

“Oh, could be anything, actually. Like, a _birthday_.” Sammy murmured, leaving the young man even more befuddled than he already was.

“...Yer birthday was 3 months ago.” Wally said slowly after a pause, still trying to piece what his boyfriend was up to.

“It doesn’t have to be mine. What about yours?” There. He dropped it. Now Sammy only hoped for this to lead to what he wanted to know. Although the constricted, conflicted expression the janitor gave was certainly not part of what he expected.

“Sammy, it’s... ‘s not mah birthday.”

Silence overtook them. The only thing disturbing their quietness was the flickering of the candles, which wax kept melting in a steady pace.

“Oh, well.” Sammy continued, nonchalantly. “It’s hard to throw guesses when you have no clues. Then when is it?”

“Sammy--”

“What about this? I drop some guesses and you tell me if I’m close or not.”

“Sammy, this is--”

“Is it around spring, perhaps?”

“Sammy, no. It is--”

“Then what about fall? Is it close?”

“Sammy, just _Drop It!_ ” Wally slammed his hands on the counter, some candles being blown off by the fanning of his hands as some others dropped even more wax from the rattle.

As if running the most straining activity, Wally’s breathing was ragged, frantic, with his torso inflating and decreasing way notoriously. And now he sported a peculiar glint in his eyes; tears prickling his eyes shimmered with the glow from the lingering candles. Both remained there, unmoving. Sammy practically unable to react as he had no idea what had just transpired. Yet by the moment he decided to open his mouth, trying to say something, Wally just pushed away from the counter; the scratching sound from the stool he was sitting on being a piercing noise that Sammy barely could react with a wince, as the seat itself nearly toppled behind the young man. Wally stormed out of the kitchen, and the slamming of the door gave Sammy the shake he needed to properly react.

“Wally-- Wally, wait!” He called, leaving the kitchen, yet returning to blow off the rest of the candles and leaving again.

He slammed the door to their room open in desperation, unknowing and uncertain of what he did wrong. Wally wasn’t there, but the bathroom’s door was closed as well, locked. Sammy strode to that door, knocking it, leaning his ear trying to listen carefully for any sign his boyfriend could give.

_“Occupied.”_ Was the rather dry answer he got, and so he tried again.

“Wally, you know it’s me.” He could hear the water splashing in the back from the running shower.

_“I said: Occupied.”_ He reiterated, but there was a slight crack in his voice.

Sammy tried now by rattling the doorknob, fear building up within him from the uneasiness this ordeal left. _Was he really angry at him from trying to guess his birthday? What did it all even mean? How could he blow up from something so common?_ Although he shook off that last thought, given he had no right nor room to judge what could upset anyone.

“C’mon, Wally!” He banged the door once more, and Wally flinched in the other side. He was sitting in the floor, back leant against the bathtub as the water from the shower fell inside it, some warm droplets bouncing and landing on his hair and shoulders, wetting his shirt in the process. He laid his arms atop his knees, face hiding in the space between his legs and chest, and fingers gripping tight the sides of his legs, nearly pricking skin with his nails weren’t for his trousers serving as a shield for his legs.

_“Wally, please!”_ Begged the man in the other side of the door, confusion and fear creeping in his voice and Wally could not overlook it. _“Can you tell me at least what I did wrong...?”_ One last thump, not as hollow as the previous knocks and bangs, but it pushed the door and rendered it still, probably from leaning his head in it this time. And Wally perked up his stare, eyes swollen and startled and a little panicked.

Because that _was_ the question, no? W _hat did he do wrong, indeed?_ Everyone had birthdays. _Heck, he just celebrated a birthday that very same day!_ What was so strange on him wanting to know his? Even if he tried a weird move to allure him into telling, with the promise of a chocolate cake that most likely was unbound to whatever the answer he gave, was it really something _wrong_ to wonder about something _literally everyone_ had?

_But he couldn’t. He wasn’t-- He did not—_

_“...Wally?”_

_“Nothin’.”_ Was a soft murmur that came from the bathroom, but the musician’s hearing still was sharp enough to at leas make out that he said something at least.

“ _What?_ Wally, what was that--” But he stopped on his tracks as a distinctive _click_ resounded from the other side, and the knob slowly turned to let the door be opened, and reveal a rather worn-down man with wet curls, wet shirt and wet, singing eyes. Said man locked stares with him, affliction and sorrow flooding his eyes, and he just plummeted against the musician’s chest, as soft jerks from his shoulders gave away the silent sobs the janitor tried to contain.

*-*-*-*-*

It was past midnight already. Sammy had to juggle around his boyfriend to manage and get the shower turn off, risking some almost-slips that nearly sent him crashing to the tiled floor. But apart from that, Sammy didn’t dare to leave Wally’s side, and now both were lying on the bed, the pillows slightly wet from the moisture carried by the janitor’s hair and shirt. Wally was curled up, still tucked in his boyfriend’s chest, as the latter kept rubbing soft comforts across his back and his now-untied hair. Both silent. Both wide awake. One still confused as to what he did to hurt his lover this bad. The other still struggling with issues the first had no way of know nor had part in the reasons these things kept bothering him.

“Ya didn’t do nothin’ wrong...” A soft murmur rumbled through Sammy’s chest, prompting him to redirect his stare to his companion, even if only an image of messy curly hair tangled between his fingers was all he was able to look now. “’M sorry.”

“Wally, no, you don’t have to--” Sammy stumbled with his words, pretty much not expecting him to still be awake. “You--”

“--Shouldn't’ave reacted that way.” Wally cut him off and continued in his stead. “’S not like ya knew, anyways.”

“Maybe, but I still upset you.” No answer of any sorts, just silence and quietness. “I’m... I’m sorry, Wally. It just... Susie was talking, and made me think—There’s not too many thing’s I actually know about you, and well...” He trailed off, feeling the miniature figure in his arms going stiff for a moment. “Can I know what happened with it? Your birthday, I mean” He curled up even more. “Can I know when it is?” Wally shook his head against his chest, rubbing his forehead with his dress shirt in the action.

“’S not a good date.” Wally concluded; he wasn’t ready to share. And Sammy didn’t skip the slight crack in his whispered tones.

“Will I be able to know someday...?” His voice was soft, a pleading merging with the hope of wanting to know, to be there, to be with him. But after a few way too long seconds, Wally merely shrugged, uncertain even of himself.

Silence reigned once more. Wally jerked every now and then from the remaining sobs trapped in his chest, all the while Sammy kept with his line of thoughts, feeling unable do to anything else with the negatives his lover gave.

It wasn’t like he didn’t trust him; of that he was certain. Were that, he wouldn’t have recognized it as an issue in front of him, would he? After all, he admitted, even he himself had his own quota of things unprepared to share, albeit not even he believed his own could be nearly as painful as what the young man must have faced. But if that specific date brought up so many bad memories, then what about any other?

“What about today?”

“...huh?” Was the answer to a question that prompted Wally to part a little from his embrace, yet not enough to lift his stare, just enough to be better heard.

“I mean, I brought a cake, I put some candles on it... Is there anything that makes today a bad day for you?”

“Ya... ya can’t... pick up a random date and make it yer birthday...” Wally retorted, but perked up a little bit.

Keeping an almost serious tone, nonchalantly, Sammy shrugged. “Who says so?” And Wally finally looked up to him, eyes still reddened, but the faintest of smiles tickling the sides of his mouth.

“Still, can’t be today, ‘s Shawn’s birthday.”

“Number 1, people are born every day, every minute, to claim one specific day as exclusive for anyone. And number 2, probably you didn’t notice, but is past midnight. Shawn’s birthday is over.”

A little snort; Wally was loosening a bit and that was all that mattered to Sammy for the time being.

“Heh, alright. But ya can’t just-- pick a random day, anyways. Is called a _Birth-_ day fer a reason!”

“Well, it doesn’t _have_ to be a birthday, per say. What about... “Beginning day”? You know, so you keep the B-D and no one questions it.” He was pretty sure now it’d also help him to keep Susie’s pestering at bay with any random date. “Doesn’t have to be today either, if you want.”

_A beginning day_ , Wally considered. Was... a weird concept, to be honest, but the prospect of start anew was something he chased since a long time ago. Never thought of giving it a proper day to commemorate, or celebrate, as Sammy put. But what date? Being on the run for so long didn’t help to keep track of days. The day he found the church? Was... quite a significative date, but his heart kept pushing for something relating Sammy. Can’t be their anniversary, wouldn’t make sense. Maybe something from before...

“April 20th.” He resolved, perking Sammy’s curiosity now.

“Really? Why then?”

But Wally only shrugged with a soft, heartfelt smile. And with no more explanation, he reached to Sammy’s lips, and planted a tender kiss on them, before returning to his secluded space between the musician’s arms, curled up, but hugging back this time.

“I love ya, Sammy.” He muttered, almost relieved, against the man’s chest. “Thanks fer ev’rything.”

Speechless, Sammy only returned the embrace, tightening his grip in loving protection, as he rested his cheek on his boyfriend’s hair.

“But you know what’s a shame?” Sammy prodded his boyfriend’s curiosity once more. “Still left like 7 months for that date! I hardly think the cake will last _that long._ ”

“We can get another cake fer then!” Wally spurted between giggles.

“Yeah, but what about _this one_?”

“We could eat some now.”

“Nah, too late. I don’t pretend to sleep with a stomachache.”

“What ‘bout in the morning?”

“You have to go to work way earlier than me. Is not a good time for cake.”

Wally barely could believe it. Was Sammy _actually_ ranting about eating cake? Although he had a clear suspicion as to why it came.

“What ‘bout this. Ya take some cake to tha studio, and leave it where only I can find it. Ya like it?”

“Eh, could be. But don’t complain if there’s not much cake left.”

A snicker bubbled up from within Wally, seemingly like self-validating his own suspicion.

“Hey, Sammy?”

“Mh?”

“Isn’t chocolate cake _yer favorite_?”

“Shut up, Franks.”

Yup, he was right. 

**Author's Note:**

> *April 20th is the randomly-generated date that I established as the day Wally first met Sammy right after being hired at JDS.
> 
> Hope you realli liked this, and if you're curious about plot points that might be barely implied in the fics, please visit [Marie Lamb's Cottage](https://marielambs-cottage.tumblr.com/) for tidbits, art and much more ^O^
> 
> Kudos and Comments always welcomed and thanked wholeheartedly~  
> ♥♥♥


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